


Almost Human

by justhavesex



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, M/M, but no cannibalism because they like 16 max here, hannibal is still fucked up, mild homophobia from will's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhavesex/pseuds/justhavesex
Summary: They had first met when they were ten.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 206





	Almost Human

**Author's Note:**

> yippie kay-yeh, idk possessive behaviour but not really. Hannibal is Hannibal but no cannibalism, so lmao, he's already doing great. Will is Will, i guess.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

"It’s hard to let go. Even when what you’re holding onto is full of thorns, it’s hard to let go. Maybe especially then."

— Stephen King, Joyland

They had first met when they were ten.

Will had clutched his father's hand desperately, confused why he was being forced out of their cozy one bedroom apartment at 8:09 AM when his father was more of a mid-afternoon kind of adult. He was brought before two people, both smiling at Will with pulled forced smiles and Will had suddenly been filled with fear that this was the day, that _today_ was the day his father would give him away.

"Are you Will?" The woman asked, crouched down, still smiling and Will had shuffled away from her extended hand risking a glance at the other child brought to this gathering. He had looked closed off, eyes watching and observing. The woman sensing his interest had turned, holding out a hand to the child that neither stepped away or took the hold, "This is Hannibal."

"We were thinking you two could play," his dad, Robert Graham who went generally by _Bill_ , had muttered out, stepping forward to shake hands with the husband then the wife, like a dutiful man the wife second because the husband is always first, "This the kid, huh?"

"Yes," they both chimed. The husband looking indifferent and the wife looking mildly stressed. Will focused on her for a second before tearing his eyes away, instead focusing on Hannibal. He tried not to bother himself with adult stress too much, he often couldn't tract down the reason as to why they were stressed aside from feeling it too heavily and even the times he could manage to figure out the reason he could never understand the logic.

Hannibal had not moved a single inch.

His dad wanted _him_ to play with this child. That was weird enough itself, Will was not good with other children, he played too rough, was too blunt and other kids didn't like him too much. "Are you different?" He blurted out, wincing at his own words before adding a more tactful, "Like me?"

The woman fluttered forward to crouch down next to Hannibal, beaming, "See, Hannibal, this boy would like to speak to you. Will has a hard time making friends too."

Will frowned at that, shuffling his feet forward. Hannibal didn't move, nor speak, doesn't even offer indication that he had heard the conversation happening around him and Will focuses in on how Hannibal seems detached from this moment. He had read in books before about kids that were so traumatized that they couldn't speak or maybe that they didn't want to speak and felt a pang of sympathy.

"It's fine," Will murmurs softly unsure what he is saying ' _its fine_ ' too, before turning back to the car and pulling out the two books he had brought with him encase he was being dragged to sit in the break room the entire day as his dad worked. He moved forward, thrusting the easier book into Hannibal's hands before turning to the big oak tree in the middle of the park. He doesn't look to see if Hannibal has followed him or not, but eventually a couple minutes after Will had settled Hannibal had settled beside him.

They didn't speak, much to their parents joint disappointment, but at the end of the day as they were being ushered away from each other Hannibal had handed him back the book.

To Will, it felt like acceptance.   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


They saw each other again a mere two days after the last introduction, this time Will is unceremoniously dropped off at the stranger's household at 8:08 PM on a Thursday night.

"I have work until Saturday," his dad had said, passing Will his back-pack before turning around and offering a more stern, "Play nice. Hannibal get's home-schooled and I've checked with the school you can just join in on his lessons instead."

"Right..."

"What was that?" His dad snapped, tone more terse.

"I said 'ok'."

"Great, have fun. That kid really needs a friend, Will, more then you do." He didn't understand what his dad meant by that and still didn't as he was pushed out of the car left to stand on the doorstep of these complete strangers and their strange, strange child. A child he wasn't even sure belonged to them, Hannibal didn't look like either of them nor did he respond with parental familiarity to them. The two of them seemed like strangers to Hannibal.

The door was opened even before he knocked showing Hannibal on the other side, head mildly tilted to observe Will in the same eerily dead silence.

"I'm being forced to come over." Will murmurs, pushing pass Hannibal and kicking off his shoes. Mildly peeved he grumbles out, "You must be really messed up if your parents want _me_ to be your friend."

"They aren't my parents." Hannibal's voice sounds like heavy bells, heavy in an accent that Will doesn't understand, Will hadn't considered the possibility that maybe Hannibal was just silent because he couldn't understand them half the time. Then frowns in confusion, because Hannibal had read one of his books in English and had looked to be actually reading it.

"I know," Will says, placing his bag off on the side before crouching down and digging in to try to find his book. He has a plan: say hello, thank you, then disappear into a corner of the home until his dad comes to pick him up. "Either you're an orphan or you've been kidnapped."

Hannibal doesn't respond, instead moving to head more into the home. _Maybe he didn't understand that_ , Will decides on, trailing in after Hannibal. He can't hear the sounds of anyone else in the home, and Will feels to awkward to call out to see if the adults are around.

Finally he breaks the silence, "Where are they?"

Hannibal turns, the corner of his lip just barely tugged upwards into the barest form of amusement. He brings them into the dining room, plates of food covered by plastic sitting on the table. He sits at the head of the table, "Work."

"Did you not want to talk because they were around?" He settles himself two seats away from Hannibal, wanting to give him space. He's not quite sure how he should place Hannibal, if he's being honest. He seems too composed despite the fact that he's received many hints from the adults around him that whatever happened to Hannibal had to be bad; crime-show level bad.

Hannibal shrugs with a single shoulder, pulling a plate to himself and uncovering the food before looking up at Will as though to ask ' _will you not eat_?' Will hesitantly reaches out to grab his own plate.

"I've tried that before." Will admits, taking his first bite and the food is bland, but okay. "With the school therapist, when my dad found out he was really angry."

"The people said 'autism'." He pronounces with as ' _auck-sm'_ but Will doesn't bother to correct him, instead choosing to duck his head and shovel in the food as quickly as possible. He feels mildly vindictive, Hannibal had seemed like the quiet scarred type but now he's being observed and pitied?

"So? What about you? What's your problem?" He snaps out getting to the mash potatoes before pushing away the plate and standing, suddenly not interested in hearing the answer. Though, to be fair, Hannibal doesn't look interested in answering him. "I know its worse then whatever's wrong with me."

"What gives it away?"

Will pauses, turning abruptly to the sound of Hannibal's voice. He seems genuinely confused, as though he can't understand why other people would see something is wrong with him.

Will huffs, "The not talking."

"I am talking," Hannibal says, his accent fading a tiny bit and Will blinks at the lapse, the sudden change. _Liar_ , he wants to hiss, but knows better than to start calling people liars, that's how he got bullied for a couple months last year.

"The not talking in front of these ' _people_ ' obviously. There's only ever something wrong if you won't talk." He knows this from first hand experience. He had thought he was being coy and smart by not talking to the therapist, but instead the therapist had took it as a sign that he was being heavily abused. He had lapsed, made a mistake, he had thought he was outsmarting the adults but in the end he ended up playing right into their hands.

Hannibal doesn't comment, instead choosing to push away his plate and to step past Will, bringing them into the living room. His back is to Will as he reaches for a book, muttering a more quiet, "I don't know the words."

Will doesn't ask ' _to what_?' because it seems redundant. He ends up flickering on the TV, putting it on a random cartoon and Hannibal watches the TV for exactly ten seconds before frowning and scurrying off to grab a book. They don't speak again, and hours stretch by until the married couple, Hannibal's guardians, finally come home to find them both asleep, Will's head lolled onto Hannibal's shoulder.   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


Their names are Laura and Kennedy Prichett, married for 12 years and offer temporary foster homes for children that don't do well in orphanages. Will hadn't figured this out from them, but from Hannibal who had explained 20 minutes before the tutor arrived as Will heard them both fluttering about downstairs getting ready for their busy days.

"Where will you go after them?"

"I assume either another orphanage or another foster home," Hannibal explains coolly, his accent still heavy and he pauses at some words, as though unsure, before moving Will to the side and grabbing clothes.

"Did your parents die?" Will asks bluntly. When his mom had died people had always beat around the bush 'where is your mom?', as though wanting to prompt him to answer the question with the bluntness and coolness of an adult despite being a child. He could never answer it quickly, it always took him time. 

But Hannibal doesn't hesitate, "Yes."

"I see..." he holds his tongue at the ' _how_ ' because even he knows that's too insensitive.

Hannibal turns, half his arm out of his shirt, "Your mom?"

"That's what dad says anyway," Will admits too. He had never truly believed his mom was actually dead, more so inclined to believe she had escaped from Will, unable to accept her own child. To his dad, she was dead to them. Sometimes, honestly, it was easier to accept than being unwanted. Will pauses, nose wrinkling, "Why are you in America?"

Hannibal pauses, head tilting as though trying to consider why he is in America. From Will's understanding Hannibal's accent seems Eastern European, something close to Russian almost but not quite. Still, Will isn't really an expert in languages so he doesn't really know, but orphans from other countries don't just pop into America without a pretty good reason. He knows that, at least. "A family had adopted me." Is all Hannibal says, and he does not expand further on the issue, Will doesn't press, either.

Laura is standing at the bottom of the stairs as both him and Hannibal come down, Hannibal telling Will in a cool bland tone about their tutor and what they will be studying for the day, Laura hearing Hannibal's voice almost looks stunned and upon her appearance at the bottom of the stairs Hannibal's jaw clacks shut, eyes narrowing in on the woman.

She coughs awkwardly, "Are you two hungry? I made breakfast."

Will shoots Hannibal a weird look, he had thought Hannibal's sudden willingness to speak was indicative that he was going to put effort speaking into his temporary foster parents, but either way Will doesn't really care as he steps past Hannibal muttering a small ' _sure, thank you_ ' as Hannibal follows him into the kitchen.

Will can tell immediately she's trained in directly dealing with scarred children because she doesn't push Hannibal to speak again, just one-sidedly engaging Will in conversations that are light and easy, about school (that Will avoids pointed questions about his friends and grades) and sports (do you do any? to which Will sinks into his chair), until finally Laura smiles thinly to him, before looking nervously to the clock.

"Are you late?" Will asks instead, head tilted slightly.

"No, no, the tutor is," she says, glancing nervously back to Hannibal before back to Will, "I might have to just be a little late to work then."

"We'll be fine," Will frowns at her, unsure why she's deciding to wait around with them, they're ten not a pair of babies that can't be left alone for 20 minutes until the tutor comes barreling through with apologies. She stiffens, glancing back to Hannibal before shaking her head like a wet dog, as though denying Will's words immediately.

_Weird_ , Will can't help but think, looking carefully to Hannibal to try and gauge why she wouldn't want to leave them alone. They were alone last night, weren't they?

Will shrugs and offers bluntly, "We were alone last night."

Her shoulders stiffen and offers Hannibal a placating smile, "Yes... Sorry about that," Will wrinkles back his nose, glancing back to Hannibal, confused. Are him and Hannibal not supposed to be left alone? He considers it for a moment, he doubts it has anything to do with him as his father often leaves him alone for hours on end, has since he was 8, and more so to do with whatever is wrong with Hannibal.

There's a sharp knock at the front door and Laura jumps up with obvious relief on her face as she scatters to the front door, the tutor sounds like a man with a strong English accent and Hannibal seems to frown at the very tone of his voice.

"Is he bad?"

Hannibal blinks at him as though mildly surprised, a thin but real smile gracing his lips, "I suppose."   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


The tutor _is_ bad, him and Hannibal sit shoulder to shoulder, both bored by the lesson and by lunch time Hannibal and him disappear upstairs into Hannibal's room both eating the sandwiches that were left for them in the fridge. Will could see the hesitance in the tutor's posture as Hannibal had dragged Will upstairs, the same way Laura was whenever him and Hannibal were too close.

"Why don't they want me near you?" It was weird for adults to simultaneously want him to be friends with someone and at the same time not want him near someone.

Hannibal doesn't seem to stir to the question right away, eyes drawn to the book in front of him with rapt attention, it's an older book in old English and Will had saw the title and snorted. Of course Hannibal was the type to read old English books and actually be enthralled by them.

"Hannibal?"

Hannibal does look up then, looking slightly annoyed that Will was demanding his attention before sighing. "They had not told you?"

"Told me what?" Will asks instead and Hannibal blinks owlishly at him, before a razor like smile graces his lips and annoyingly enough Hannibal still doesn't answer the question, his head dipping back down and focusing back onto his book. At times he feels like Hannibal is only tolerating him like one does a toddler, other times he feels like Hannibal has some interest in him, but still, it's superficial, like one likes the appearance of a pretty house plant.

Will sighs, leaning backwards until he's on the ground staring up at the ceiling, "You probably beat up a bunch of kids in the orphanage and they're scared your going to hurt me too. I don't think you will, though."

"I consider it more and more every time you interrupt my reading," Hannibal says, thinly veiled annoyance in his tone and Will smiles at that, rolling onto his side so he can watch Hannibal raptly turn to the next page, sandwich already finished.

"I wouldn't need to if you would give me something to read, too."

Hannibal seems to pause at that, book snapping shut before he stands and approaches his book case and picks up a book in another language before dropping it unceremoniously in front of Will, eyes challenging. When it is just the two of them Hannibal seems to be in a better mood, but Will can sense that the tutor downstairs is grating on Hannibal's overall mood, making him lash out in Hannibal terms. 

"Will you read it to me?"

Hannibal stares at him as though considering, before he sighs and picks the book back up and sits on the side of his bed, Will closes his eyes just as he hears the first words leaving Hannibal's mouth.   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


After about two weeks of meeting each other every now and then Will can admit that he's started to consider Hannibal his friend. Dare he say Hannibal is slowly starting to consider the same thing, or at the very least he's been improved from house plant to pet gold fish, something that moves and sparkles and intrigues Hannibal for minuscule seconds.

Well he had thought it was just minuscule intrigue until he was brought to Hannibal's home with a black eye and cracked lip.

Laura had opened the door for him, fluttering over him immediately with ' _oh Will, are you okay_?' Will's father behind him sighing and explaining, "Him and some brats at school started fighting."

Hannibal had descended the stairs earlier than usual, usually Will would go to Hannibal once his dad was gone and Laura had puttered back to the living room or kitchen. Hannibal had stopped half way down the stairs, eyes drawn to Will's injuries before his gaze had snapped accusingly over to Will's father.

"Stop that," Will snaps at him immediately, his dad stirring behind Will as though surprised by his son's angry tone towards Hannibal. He probably is, his dad hasn't really seen him and Hannibal interact much, neither has Hannibal's guardians, being honest. All they know is that Hannibal tolerates and speaks to him, and to them, that is more then enough.

"Am I wrong?" Hannibal asks in Lithuanian and Will blinks at the usage of it, only really understanding that ' _I_ ' and before he frowns at Hannibal. It wasn't like Hannibal was actively trying to teach him his first language but they often read books together in French (which Will had elementary understanding of) and Lithuanian, sometimes when Hannibal was bored of that they would watch TV.

Will steps away from his dad, towards Hannibal offering in careful stilted French, "Not my dad."

Hannibal hums then, suddenly disinterested, the adults at the bottom watching them both with rapt attention. Hannibal continues to say something in Lithuanian that Will still doesn't really understand but Hannibal has been doing that more and more, speaking to him in other languages. Will wouldn't be surprised that once Hannibal has teached him enough of both languages he'd add a fourth to Will's repertoire.

"Is public school interesting?" Hannibal asks in French, probably the exact same thing he said in Lithuanian, and Will tilts his head in confusion at the last word before Hannibal drawls, irritated, " _Interesting_ ," in English.

"Oh," Will says twitching awkwardly and rubbing at his black eye, he doesn't bother to respond back in French deciding to just speak in English. "I guess. Not really."

"Is Hannibal teaching you languages?" Kennedy asks walking in from the kitchen and offering a curt manly, ' _how's it going_?' to his father. Will awkwardly shrugs at that, wishing him and Hannibal could just retreat up to his room, but he's denied that when Kennedy motions to the living room, "Do you two mind sitting down, we need to talk to you."

Hannibal doesn't sit down, deciding to instead linger behind Will and the adults watch the motion with hesitance and Will abruptly realizes that they're scared Hannibal will lash out because whatever they are going to say is bad news.

"We understand you two have gotten close," Laura starts off with, looking carefully to Hannibal's reaction to the word ' _close'_ but Hannibal's expression is purposefully blank, and Will tilts his head back a bit to try and gauge Hannibal's mood, which seems decidedly sour. There's no denial to them being close though and Hannibal doesn't out right sneer, so Will takes it as a tiny victory. "And we're very happy Hannibal has become your friend, Will."

"Does he have to leave?" Will blurts out before they can finish, frowning at himself, before adding in a more hushed tone, "He doesn't do good in orphanages, right? If you send him back he's—"

"Will." Hannibal interrupts, tone steely and Will dips his head forward in shame. He doesn't even know why he's begging for Hannibal, they've barely known each other for three weeks, but still, Hannibal is his first _real_ friend, he doesn't want to get rid of that. Hell, Hannibal probably only barely tolerates him, but still, its better than most people. Even his own dad doesn't tolerate him as much as Hannibal does.

"Hannibal had come here to be adopted but they...well, no matter that, but he has to go back to an orphanage in Lithuania. He can only stay with us until the paperwork is completed, but he has to go back." Laura explains carefully, smiling pitifully to Will, "I know its hard but you two can still write to each other."

Will sags completely at the news, he should have known his time with his first friend would be cut short so soon. Hannibal behind him radiates displeasure at the news.

"Bad," Will says in Lithuanian to Hannibal, glaring up at him knowing that the only reason Hannibal's adoptive parents probably returned Hannibal is because Hannibal had done something to them, something enough to terrify them into returning a child they had brought to America all the way from Lithuania, before repeating more stubbornly in English, "You couldn't just behave?"

Hannibal blinks down at him, head tilting almost curiously at the accusing tone, "I am behaving."

Laura and Kennedy seem to stiffen at those words and Will shakes his head again, "Not with _them_ , I meant with the other adults," Will sinks down into his chair, almost feeling like a sulking toddler, before grumbling in French, "I don't want you to go."

Hannibal seems to stir at those words, at least, peering down at Will. Finally, Hannibal does move, snake like and quickly as he moves forward to grab Will by the shoulder and Will let's out a soft yelp as he's tossed to the ground the adults quickly snapping loud tones of ' _Hannibal_!' but Hannibal ignores them, knee coming down to press into Will's stomach, two hands wrapped around Will's throat.

Will doesn't move, Hannibal looks irritated at something that's beyond Will and he doesn't exactly want to trigger Hannibal into actually squeezing his throat.

"If you do not want to be separated I can kill you," Hannibal offers, as though that is the solution to their problem and Will finally understands that whatever is wrong with Hannibal is _really_ wrong.

"Hannibal you need to let go," Laura says sternly, and Will instead chooses to focus his eyes directly on Hannibal. "Hannibal, let go!"

_Focus_ , if he was in Hannibal's situation what would he want to hear? Hannibal is reacting to the situation in the only way he knows how when he's upset: violence. It soothes Will, mildly, feeling a prickle of pride that Hannibal does actually care about him, even if it's only a little bit. Will reaches up then, hand sliding to Hannibal's wrists and digging his nails there, Hannibal flinches mildly but otherwise doesn't move.

"Even if I die we'll still be separated," Will croaks out eventually, "Or do you want me to die?"

Hannibal frowns at the words, as though considering, before he stands up abruptly, dragging Will up with him and Will is only mildly surprised when Hannibal reaches out to offer him an awkward half-hug, as though he's mimicking a soothing motion he's seen but has never had to put it in practice.

"We can call each other," Will whispers to Hannibal, realizing Hannibal had only started to hold him because Will was crying either from the shock of Hannibal tossing him to the ground or Hannibal apparently having some feelings towards him, he's not sure. "And write letters, or emails. By the time we see each other next I'll be fluent in Lithuanian."

"I find that hard to believe."   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


They end up seeing each other again when they turn twelve, Hannibal having been adopted by his rich uncle that had found Hannibal by chance that had brought Hannibal to Paris.

His uncle had been kind enough to fly Hannibal out to allow him to see his 'little friend' for Hannibal's birthday for two weeks. They had kept true to their promise to keep in touch, calling each other once or twice a week for hours on end through skype. Will wouldn't say he's fluent in Lithuanian or French, but he's better at them both enough to continue a conversation well enough, French more than Lithuanian as he's taking French in school, but he's getting there.

Hannibal is taller than the last time they saw each other, body awkwardly lanky in some area's and still pudgy in other's whilst waiting for an incoming growth spurt. Will's dad had seemed to dislike that Will managed to keep in touch with Hannibal, having explained to Will that Hannibal is ' _volatile, not good_ ' but Will knew his dad didn't understand that Hannibal wasn't trying to be violent, its just the only thing he knows to solve his problems.

"Hannibal!" Will says, trying to avoid the obvious excitement in his voice when he see's Hannibal step through the unboarding area, a young Asian woman accompanying him from behind. _Lady Murasaki_ , his household attendant, Hannibal had only mentioned her in passing but he seemed to like her well enough.

"Will," Hannibal greets back, a small pleased smile gracing his lips and Will rushes forward to him and stops before Hannibal, putting himself in arms reach but not wanting to reach out and touch Hannibal first. Hannibal doesn't hesitate, though, dropping his bag to the ground and reaching up to cup Will's face with both hands, kissing Will's forehead and whispering in careful Lithuanian, "Are you sick?"

"A bit," he answers back, Hannibal steps back then and Will carefully glances over to his dad that seems to be frowning at something. _He doesn't like Hannibal_ , he reminds himself. His dad had probably been hoping at some point him and Hannibal would fall out of contact and never see each other again, but him and Hannibal had continued to speak in different languages more often than his dad was probably pleased with, even more that he couldn't understand what they were saying half the time. "You got taller."

Hannibal's eyes sparkle in amusement but he doesn't comment further, instead releasing Will and nodding his head in acknowledgement to Will's dad, "Mr. Graham."

"Hello, Hannibal." His dad says, tone stiff, "Glad to see you doing well," before he directs a firm handshake to Hannibal's attendant to which she returns just as strong.

"We will head to the hotel first and then you may attend to your friend," Lady Murasaki says tightly, and Will is under the impression that she is likely a very strict woman, no wonder Hannibal likes her because Hannibal loves being under the impression he's some old English gentleman that is all manners and well-behaved.

"Can I go with them, dad?" Will asks instead, not really wanting to spend time apart from Hannibal when they only have a measly two weeks together after two years of separation. His dad scrunches up his face at the request and Will feels himself deflating mildly. If Hannibal had just behaved himself the last time they saw each other his dad probably would let him roam free with Hannibal as much as he wants, but of course, Hannibal had been young and immature and still impressed by whatever had scarred him so badly. "Please?" Will adds, a bit more desperate.

"You shouldn't jump to go with adults you've just met," Lady Murasaki interrupts coolly, offering in a more kind, "We won't be long, we will just drop off the luggage."

His dad pauses, before sighing, "What hotel is it? I can bring Will over to see Hannibal for awhile."

Will blinks at his dad, shooting him a betrayed looked, "You said I could sleepover, that's why Hannibal's uncle got a big room—"

"Will," his dad says more sternly and Will deflates to the tone, "Sound good?"

"No that's fine," she says kindly, or as kindly as she can, and Will can tell that she's trying to avoid putting all the blame on Will's dad to mollify Hannibal who looks mildly annoyed by the situation. Hannibal hadn't really said anything but he knows Hannibal had been keen to start him and Will on either German or Turkish tonight, depending on which one they took more too. "Here's the hotel location."

"See you later?" Will offers to a small smile to Hannibal, reaching out and grabbing Hannibal's sleeve and Hannibal seems to stir from his brooding to nod sharply to Will.

More warmly Hannibal offers a quiet, "Later, Will."   
  
  


* * *  
  
  


His dad eventually does let him pack a bag to bring over to hotel so he can sleep over.

Not without a lecture, of course.

"That boy is unstable, Will," his dad starts again for the third time, arms crossed and tightly wound up like a spring pressed against the floor and ready to bounce up and smack the ceiling. He exhales loudly, finger tips tapping against the inside of his arm, "You two..." then stops short, just as he has the last two times he's tried to get past whatever he's trying to say regarding that topic line.

"Hannibal is better now." Will says instead, avoiding his dad's gaze knowing it'll just anger him more if their eyes meet and his dad can see the disobedience before his eyes, before shoving his less 'childish' pajamas into his bag along with his toothbrush, he pauses before adding, "Well, better than before. He was just upset last time."

"He threatened to _kill_ you," his dad adds more sharply, "I know that kid had some messed up shit happen to him, Will, but it doesn't mean you should just forgive him for that."

"He asked me if I wanted him to kill me, not that he _was_ going to kill me," Will huffs out, more roughly shoving in a pair of socks and scowling when he realizes they have holes in them. Blindly he reaches out to the other four pairs, all in similar shapes and sizes. He usually doesn't care about the sorry state of his clothes but it feels embarrassing to see Hannibal with holes in his clothes.

"Oh and that makes it better."

"Yes," Will says petulantly, "Hannibal is my friend, dad." He leaves out the ' _my only friend_ ' because his dad knows it well enough. Will doesn't interact with the other kids right, he says too much or too little and they move around to much for Will to finally warm up to people or even for them to warm up to Will.

" _Friend_ ," his dad repeats in a mocking scoff before he drags himself off to the kitchen, his mouth drawn in a tight scowl and Will can see the pressure in his dad's jaw. Carefully his dad tugs a beer from the fridge, taking a quick swig and Will pulls his bag to his lap, putting something between him and his dad instinctively. "You sure about that, kid?"

Will swallows stiffly, avoiding his dads stern gaze. He doesn't understand the point of he question, why wouldn't him and Hannibal be friends? Before he realizes his dad has probably caught onto Hannibal's mannerisms, but Will refuses to play into his dads hands directly. "Is this about Hannibal being..." Will offers carefully, nervously pulling at the loose threads on his sweater to avoid looking up. He doesn't say the word 'touchy'. He can't. "I'm pretty sure he just does it to annoy me."

But it doesn't. And _that's_ the problem. 

His dad blinks, "To mess with you?" his dad frowns, taking another swig, "The forehead kissing and touching is messing with you?"

"Sure," Will says, pausing in his nervous fidgeting before working harder towards them and motioning stiffly to his bag, "Should we go now?"

His dad's sounds almost accusatory as he demands sharply, "Do you like Hannibal?"

Will can feel alarm bells ring in his head at that. He hadn't really ever thought of Hannibal _that_ way, more like he actively tried not to think of Hannibal that way because pushing emotions onto Hannibal that Hannibal doesn't agree with would result in a fight or cold indifference to Will which would result in them stop being friends.

But honestly, he had googled it, once, in the school library after hours (because he was too scared to look it up at home) about boys liking boys and had felt frightened by what he found enough to exit out and promptly never think of it again.

His dad must take his silence as agreement as he mutters a sharp ' _fucking hell_ ' before slamming down his other fist onto the table and Will feels stupid that couldn't just out right lie to his dad and say ' _No_ '. He's started to suspect since that time Hannibal was close to strangling him that he lacks basic survival instincts, because _no_ should have fallen from his lips the moment his dad asked that question. He knows how his dad feels about boys liking boys.

"I don't like Hannibal like that," Will whispers more urgently, sinking into himself and avoids looking up, even to his own ears it sounds like a lie, "He's lives in France that's why he's so touchy..."

"Shitty liar, just like your mother." His dad hisses, before sighing more loudly and sinking down into his chair his gaze drawn sharply onto Will, as though looking for _something_. "Listen to me, Will, you're too young to be dating or any of that nonsense."

Will blinks blearily at his dad, nodding his head like a bobble head in agreement.

"You're just confused, you ain't no homo."

"Ok dad," Will agrees with quietly, wishing that he could just be absorbed into the floor and disappear down there forever. Hannibal would come find him eventually and they could live in the floorboards together, practicing languages and shielded from the outside world. "I'm not."

"Good," his dad says raising and moving towards the front door, "Let's go."  
  
  


* * *  
  
  


Will manages to remind himself every morning for three days in a row that he isn't gay and that he only likes Hannibal Lecter as a friend. That is until the morning Lady Murasaki had went downstairs first to grab breakfast leaving him and Hannibal completely alone that Hannibal had leaned over Will as Will had opened his eyes, Hannibal briskly leaning forward to push their lips together.

It was a quick and childish kiss, but Will had felt stunned.

"You kissed me," Will decides to settle on, reaching out to touch his lips before looking at Hannibal with wide terrified eyes, Hannibal seems to be confused by the look. Simply nodding, not understanding why they _wouldn't_ kiss, probably. "Do you like me?"

"I do." Hannibal says simply, straight to the point.

Will can feel his face flush before he sinks further into his bed and Hannibal smiles down at him, the smile almost _soft_ , before leaning forward and pecking Will's lips again. "What shall we do today?"

Will thinks of his father banging his fist to the table and his dad hissing out ' _you ain't no homo_ ' and wishes he could repeat the sentiment. But he likes Hannibal, he really does. Weirdly enough, Hannibal likes him too. "My dad hates gay people..." Will offers carefully, tracking how Hannibal looks at him.

"So be careful in front of him?" Hannibal asks, seemingly amused by the prospect.

"Yeah," Will chokes out, nodding quickly. "Careful."  
  
  


* * *  
  
  


Will had assumed they would spend most of their time reading together, but Hannibal seems to take to physical actions, forcing them to cuddle on the bed as they watch a show that Hannibal seems to have absolutely no interest in or go for walks hand-in-hand, Will feeding ducks and Hannibal telling him about restaurants he's been to that serve duck.

He had thought Lady Murasaki would shadow them everywhere they go but she seems content to stay separated from them for the duration of the trip after the first few days, she had even caught them holding hands before and hadn't asked. Suspiciously, Will was beginning to understand that maybe Hannibal had actually told her.

They spent the first week not really doing much and in the second week Hannibal and him go to a library, "I have always wanted to come here."

"Here?" Will asks, glancing around unsure why Hannibal would want to come here so badly. Well, it is a pretty library, at least. The ceilings are high and painted with flowers, bookshelves a dark wooden colour that he's sure Hannibal knows the exact name too.

They end up in the corner of the library where the medical texts are along with the more 'alternative medicine' that Hannibal seems to take personal offense too. "Not a fan of essential oils healing?"

"I'm sure they are helpful in their own ways," is the stiff response he receives, Hannibal flickering through the books with rapt interest. He feels slightly torn when he see's Hannibal withdraw his first book titled ' _surgical precision: how to cut the human body'_ unsure why he's so nervous at the prospect.

Then he remembers exactly who he is looking at.

Will wanders away from his side, not really wanting to watch Hannibal gather surgical books for whatever reason a twelve year old could need them for, deciding to land in the science fiction section, flickering through a book he barely has any interest in.

"Graham, that you?" He hears a rough voice hiss from down the aisle and Will raises his head, stomach clenching involuntarily when he see's three of his classmates gathered. In a way they are better then some of the other's, these are the smarter kids, the future varsity jocks, the popular kind that don't involve themselves in trouble if they can avoid it.

A blonde girl off to the side-lines steps forward, putting herself between the two boys she's with and Will, "Hey, studying?"

Quickly he dips his chin to his chest, forcing himself to murmur the quiet response of, "Yeah... Kind of."

"Will, where did you wander too?" Hannibal's voice in lithe Lithuanian stirs Will to glance over his shoulder, more surprised when Hannibal stalks forward, gaze drawn to the three poised slightly near Will, before turning his attention back onto Will. Will can feel a chill crawl down his spine, and stubbornly, does not glance to the books Hannibal is carrying.

"Right here." Will rasps back, briefly glancing up to stare at the girls right ear, offering a halfhearted smile before murmuring to them, "Guess I'll leave you guys to your uh... studying?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling brightly, probably trying to be nice to the quiet bullied autistic kid. Kindly as she steps back she offers, "Do you and your friend want to join us?"

"Oh, no—"

"Yes," Hannibal interrupts, pressing a hand to Will's lower back and leaning forward to mutter in to Will, ' _be good_ ' and Will blushes at the attention before allowing Hannibal to man-handle him forward. "Will is very shy, I'm hoping he can make friends aside from me."

"Yeah, he barely talks in school," she offers casually, still smiling, Will wonders briefly if maybe its painful to smile that much and that brightly. "This is Brad and Chad," Will really has to repress a snort at that, "And I'm Amy."

"I'm Hannibal," they all carefully move to a table in the off-skirts of the library, one where one of Amy's friends is waiting, another girl but less pretty. Will reluctantly takes a seat at the very edge of the table, putting Hannibal between him and them. _Why are we doing this_? Will wants to ask, but trying to understand why Hannibal does anything is like asking a brick wall why it's white. You don't get an answer and then you feel more stupid for even asking.

"You from here?" Brad asks, glancing at Will with a pointed look of ' _no way someone from here is this kids friend_ ', probably assuming Hannibal is some charity case friend Will had got by off-chance.

"No, I'm from Paris."

"Ohhh, Paris," the other less-pretty girl murmurs, her eyelashes fluttering before smiling gently, "How cool, so you speak French?"

Hannibal actually seems _amused_ and Will sinks into his seat, feeling about ready to disappear. He wants to grab Hannibal's arm and drag them out of here abruptly and he's sure Hannibal wouldn't care but the kids surrounding him would spread rumours of him being weirder than originally thought in a heart beat.

"Yes," he reaches out patting Will's knee gently and Will is sure Hannibal is trying to convey ' _try_ ' but Will really does not want to try. "I'm hoping Will and I will be able to add a fourth language to our capabilities soon."

"A fourth?" Amy asks, shooting Will another one of her bright smiles, "Wow Will, I didn't know you spoke other languages!"

Hannibal this time more purposefully leans forward, his face close to Will's and tone sharper, "Will." When did Hannibal start caring about other people and socializing? He feels vengeful at the idea that Hannibal has managed to learn how to be normal while he's still painfully _not_ normal.

Will scowls at him briefly before glancing up to stare at the middle of the table, forcing out a sharp, "Yeah. I do."

Amy seems absolutely thrilled that Will even bothered to answer her and he doesn't know what exactly is up with this girl to make her react to him so much. Does she pity him? Hate him? Want to help him? He's not sure, but its weird and he hates it.

"Look dude if your going to grouchy and you don't want to be here you don't have too," Chad snaps out, his chin pressed into the palm of his hand glaring at Will. _Must like Amy_ , Will observes quickly before recoiling back into himself, shooting Hannibal a look that he hopes conveys ' _I want to go_.'

"Chad," Amy chastises, before turning her attention back onto Will, "Sorry, he's stupid. My brother is autistic too, you know, you don't have to listen to idiots like Chad."

_Pity, then_ , Will sighs at that.

Chad huffs, right hand coming to spread against the table top before grumbling a sharp, "Not my fault he's being a fucking loser."

Will can feel the air tense abruptly before Hannibal stands, lithe and quick as he always is when he's about to commit an act of violence and the preliminary ' _Stop_ ' gets stopped at the base of his throat before he can push out the words, Hannibal leaning quickly over the table pen being purposefully stabbed through the table right between the fingers of Chad's right hand.

"That was rude," Hannibal advises, tone cool and Will can feel his heart rate spike up, terrified.

Chad looks at him, eyes wide and terrified and probably very, very confused.

"Hannibal," Will says quickly standing up from his spot and grabbing Hannibal's wrists and digging his nails in there, Hannibal observes him carefully all the while allowing Will to remove his hand from where he had jabbed the pen into the table. Quietly Will hisses in French, "You can't just threaten to stab someone because they're _rude_."

"Really? I've found it quite effective in Paris." Hannibal advises, in English, turning his body fully to Chad. Smiling. "I'm afraid I missed your hand, should I try again?"

"Try again?" Chad asks carefully, glancing back down to the pen before looking back up to Hannibal, probably finally understanding it was a warning.

"Unless you had found it effective?" Hannibal's eyes are sparkling, thoroughly amused, and Will can't help but feel that maybe this was Hannibal's intention: scare a bunch of students at Will's school to ward them off from hurting Will at all. He had told his dad that Hannibal was _better_ , now he's unsure. 

Maybe Hannibal had never got better, just got better at hiding it.

Amy laughs high and nervous, looking to Will with obvious pleading in her eyes and Will tugs Hannibal backwards.

"We should go," Will sighs out, nudging Hannibal towards the door, "Bye."

It's only until they're in the safety of the hotel room again does Will fully round on Hannibal, half angry and half terrified. A part of him can't help but feel like his dad was so, so very right, that Hannibal _is_ unstable and that he had just let someone incredibly volatile become his boyfriend.

"Hannibal—"

He swallows down the words. Hannibal is still young. Hannibal is still healing, he's getting better everyday and he's smart and learning. Its only been two years but he's already learnt not to bodily throttle someone and choke them, so he's _learning_. 

_I like Hannibal_ , he reminds himself and with shaky hands he reaches out to tug at the bottom of Hannibal's shirt, eyes squeezed shut.

"You do not need to worry," Hannibal whispers in his ear and Will can feel the tips of his smile. 

* * *

They see each other about twice a year, in the summer Hannibal's visit lasts about a month while in the winter they are usually shorter and Hannibal always comes with a suitcase full of gifts. Clothes, school supplies, things that usually Will's dad wouldn't even consider buying for Will unless it is one of the good months. 

He's moved both times Hannibal's had to visit but Hannibal doesn't comment on the constant movement, instead they spend all their time absorbing each other. He had thought eventually Hannibal would become sick with him but Hannibal is always as fascinated by Will as the last time they had to see each other.

Hannibal does get better under the watchful eye of Lady Murasaki. 

When Will turns fifteen he makes his first friend aside from Hannibal. Her name is Amelia Brown she's short and stocky and overall a bossy person but Will _likes_ her. She's funny in a unique way and doesn't care that he won't look her in the eye most days, she even knows that Will is dating Hannibal (which he's half convinced she thinks Will is lying to her) and doesn't give two rats asses. 

Hannibal had seemed intrigued that Will had made a friend and as far as Will could understand Hannibal seemed pleased by the idea. And maybe its what people do and he wanted to role-play as a normal person but he had decided it would be a good idea to force smart and cool Hannibal to meet his loud and bossy friend from high school.

"So you are real," Amelia says in greeting.

Hannibal smiles thinly at her, "Yes. I see that you are as well."

Amelia laughs at that, as though pleased and Will sags in relief because he should have realized Amelia wouldn't be emotionally equipped enough to notice that Hannibal is insulting her. Hannibal recoils away from her immediately, stepping in beside Will and glancing down at him with eyes asking ' _what do I do_?'

"We were thinking ice-cream," Will tells Hannibal, giving a small fond smile to Hannibal. He knows underneath all the masks that Hannibal is just as socially awkward as he is, maybe even more. Sometimes Hannibal misses basic social cues or maybe he sees them and woefully ignores them and other times Hannibal seems like he's playing a game. 

Hannibal reaches down, hand rubbing lightly over Will's stomach before his head tilts mildly, "You are lactose intolerant." 

"A little bit won't kill me."

"To have milk—" Hannibal pauses, the words in English coming out stilted to him before he switches abruptly to French, "Continuing to have something that your digestive system disagrees with can cause long term health issues."

"I don't have ice-cream everyday, Hannibal." Rolling his eyes he steps away, pointing down the road so Amelia doesn't feel left out, usually at this point he'd concede to Hannibal but Amelia had said she wanted ice-cream and he wants to give her the upper-hand so she feels comfortable as Hannibal likely interrogates her. "It's just down the road." 

Hannibal frowns sharply at that, "Will."

" _Hannibal_ ," Will groans in the same grave tone Hannibal has taken up. He doesn't get why Hannibal is so particular about some details. _Control_? Seems possible enough. When Hannibal is around he likes to pick out Will's outfits, choose the meals for the day, what they are going to do, anything that gives him the illusion of control and Will lets him because he doesn't care enough to argue about it. 

"We can get something else?" Amelia offers, sensing some weird tension, "Didn't know there were foods you couldn't eat considering you eat anything."

"Can't be picky," Will half-jokes. Well he means it, sincerely. "I'm ok with a little bit of ice-cream, Amel. Hannibal wants to be a doctor so he's just being annoying." 

Hannibal's gaze seems to flicker in annoyance, but primly raises his chin looking much too regal to be on a side-walk in a small Louisiana town getting ice-cream. "If you insist," he concedes on and Will gives him a toothy grin, stepping forward to press a swift quick cheek kiss to his face. 

* * *

Generally when Hannibal visits Will doesn't often go home, sometimes he'll drop by to make sure his dad is still alive or to grab something but usually he just stays plastered to Hannibal's side. He's excited, of course, when him and Hannibal are old enough to live together. Hannibal hasn't explicitly said it but he seems interested in going to John Hopkin's in Maryland and Will is willing to follow him to there. 

But that is a couple years off, earliest. 

Hannibal doesn't come with him whenever he goes home because Will knows his dad hates Hannibal. He can't even blame his dad, Hannibal tends to treat his dad like a prickly inconvenience in his life and Will knows his dad can smell blood on Hannibal.

No, his dad knows what _happened_ Hannibal; something even Will hasn't been able to gather from Hannibal. Sometimes he wants too, other times he knows its best to stay blissfully unaware until Hannibal is ready to talk about it, to expose his trauma. 

He arrives home for a brief twenty minute check in, grab clothes, say hey to his dad before going back off with Hannibal but he flickers on the light when he arrives to a dark home. "Dad?" He calls out, his dad should be home but he shoves away the nagging feeling stepping more carefully into the home, nudging off his shoes, "Dad? I brought leftovers from my dinner." 

"Will," his dad is on the recliner, eyes glued to an off TV screen and Will's stomach does a nervous swing, grumbling in an upset nagging way. He spots a couple of cans near his dad's feet, followed by more in the sink. He knows immediately it is one of his dad's 'bad days' and decides to withdraw a bit into himself. A little less, not enough to be irritating, an eyesore. 

"You hungry?"

"Heard something interesting around town today," Will hums in fake interest, clearing out the sink and washing a couple of dishes quickly, superficially tidying up the house and feeling bad he hasn't cleaned it properly in a couple of weeks. Hannibal would be leaving soon, anyway, and once he did Will would clean the house properly again. "Rumours that Amelia has a faggot of a friend."

Will's shoulders shoot right up, feeling a weird coil of fear settle at the base of his spine. He knows, instinctively, that his dad _knew_ that him and Hannibal were more than friends, he would have to be stupid not to realize but he and his dad decided to play blind to each side, not willing to begin a fight over something like this. 

His dad was drunk, though, and his dad was always more willing to start a fight when drunk. 

"Pretty nasty rumour, that," Will drawls hoping it comes out as indifferent, before putting the leftovers on a clean plate and shoving it into the microwave. He wants to turn around to keep his dad in his sight, just to be careful, but he knows his dad would take it as a challenge so he keeps his back turned, not willing to meet his eyes. 

"Ya," his dad snorts out, "Don't play me for a fool, son, I thought I told you that you ain't no homo." 

"I know dad," Will grits out, risking a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his dad hasn't moved off his seat. His dad doesn't usually get violent; maybe only once a year but he can't risk it with Hannibal at the doorstep waiting for him. He isn't dumb enough to think Hannibal will idly stand by if his dad does something. He swallows out a more careful, "I'm not."

"So you aren't the fag that's running around with a foreign boy?" He practically yells it out and Will flinches, risking a quick glance to the door to make sure it's still shut. _Hannibal is better_ , he reminds himself, his Hannibal would know not to enter and make it worse.

_No_ , he concedes, watching in horror as he spots the handle turning, _his_ Hannibal relishes in violence, thrives in the thick inky black of it. His Hannibal is still young but when he grows into his skin, when he truly pushes aside his limits he will be truly terrifying. 

"Dad, please, I'm not." Will tries for, reaching for the microwave to open it when it beeps and he squeezes his eyes shut when he hears his dad drunkenly raise from his chair, feet sweeping over the tile and clattering against empty beer cans. He exhales the same moment his dad's hand comes to the back of his head, pulling his down on his hair and forcing Will to properly turn. 

His dad's teeth are in a proper snarl, jagged fangs from years of poverty and neglect with yellowing on the edges, bared in anger and Will can feel himself slipping into the sound of the stream when he hears the door creak open properly. 

"Hannibal, please," Will can hear himself asking and he knows exactly what he's asking for. For Hannibal to leave, to just _go_ , but Hannibal raises his chin to his dad, their gazes meeting as his dad lets out a disbelieving scoff. 

"Don't think you can scare me by staring me down."

"I am not trying too. It would be best to let Will go, I think."

"Do you?" Bill Graham snarls out, pushing Will into the cabinets and Will makes a small helpless gasp from the wind being pushed out of him from the impact. More desperately he offers, ' _dad please, stop this_ ' and he's almost sure it fell on deaf ears as his dad makes a wide motion, but his dad hisses a more sharp, "Fine I'll fucking stop, doesn't matter because you two ain't gonna ever be seeing each other again. My son ain't no homo." 

Hannibal blinks, big wide eyes looking confused and Will can feel icy liquid sinking through his veins. He can't even push out the weak ' _Hannibal, no_ ' that wants to fall from his lips—years will go by where he thinks; did he know what Hannibal was going to do and decided to allow it because he was willing to sacrifice his dad for _Hannibal_?—and Hannibal's eyes gloss over, lips thinning tightly. 

"What pissed off?" His dad snorts, aggressively kicking a lose beer can on the floor, Will's eyes watch it roll and clatter, he doesn't want to risk looking at either his dad or Hannibal. He doesn't want to absorb Hannibal's cool anger, or his dad's irrational fear of different-ness. "I know your kind, kid, you can pretend to be a pretentious rich boy all you want but I ain't letting my son be with a fuck up like _you_." 

It feels like a slug is running down Will's back, he shivers in disgust, recoiling away from his dad when his dad takes a step towards Will. He doesn't reach for him, though, instead settling on grabbing a lukewarm still full beer can from beside the sink. 

"My kind?" Hannibal echoes, his voice almost haloed; like when Will was on the ground with Hannibal's hands on his throats, Will's eyes burning the image of Hannibal haloed by the light on the ceiling. He had looked like an eclipse. There's a promise of violence in his tone, just like in the library, just like when Hannibal had asked confused and bland ' _do you want me to kill you_?' 

His dad shakes his head like a wet dog before offering a fake amused laugh, "Never should have let Will near your psychotic ass."

"Will has his own agency if he wishes to be around me—"

"Will is a _minor_ ," Bill snaps out, "Now get out of my house kid before I give your ass a boot licking, too. Say goodbye boy, I ain't letting this fucker near your again as long as I'm alive."

Will doesn't say goodbye, he doesn't say ' _no_ ' or ' _please stop_ ' instead he does the only thing he's ever done in situations of distress, he looks to Hannibal the wordless plea of nothing falling from his lips, " _Hannibal_."

As always, Hannibal understands.

* * *

He files his dad as a missing person after three days. 

Hannibal operates in a specific way; coddle Will, feed Will, deals with paperwork with his uncle and aunt and then deals with the bod—no, Will doesn't think of it. He shutters it out stubbornly and watches as Hannibal murmurs to his aunt in Japanese on the phone, irritated by her insistence that Hannibal return while they formalize the documents for Will to come with him. "No," Hannibal says for the fourth time, "I will wait with Will. I will do my schooling online for the month I'll miss."

His aunt gives a frustrated sigh on the other line, Will can hear it, before she says curtly, 'Very well' (he thinks, he only knows the basics of Japanese from when he's heard Hannibal speak it), before she hangs up sharply. 

Will gives him a crooked smile, "Planning to bring me to France?"

"Yes, I can't let you fall into the clutches of the American adoption system," Hannibal waves off, busying himself, Will wonders if Hannibal has already enrolled him in the same school or he is planning to give Will time to grieve, but then he remembers this is Hannibal, Hannibal would never give him time to grieve. 

Its eerie how many things so quickly fell into place in the past three days, Hannibal having things and documents ready immediately as though he was prepared. A part of him wants to say 'no, leave me behind' but he realizes exactly what this is. Hannibal did him a favour in his mind, and now, Will will become his. No more meddlesome dad in the way, just them. Only them. 

Hannibal turns to him then as though sensing his thoughts, smile plastered to his face. "Now, Will, when we arrive which part of Paris would you like to see first?" Hannibal steps forward then, hands clasping Will's face and bringing them together, inhaling each other. 

He can imagine his dad at the window-still, peering at Will with sharp calculating eyes, ' _that boy is bad news, son_ '. But the thing that his dad never considered, never thought about whenever Will would play with roadkill when he was younger and didn't understand death outside of his fascination with it, was that there was never really anything right about him, either. 

He inhales Hannibal, running his thumb over the scratch on Hannibal's cheek, he smells like cinnamon and blood.

To Will, it smells like home. 


End file.
